Alone
by Chimery
Summary: "I'm Jack Frost. I'm here to make them happy, right?" A ficlet based around Jack Frost and his life as the spirit of winter. Set just after the movie.


"_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
Just like the ones I used to know  
where the treetops glisten,  
and children listen  
to hear sleigh bells in the snow_

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
With every Christmas card I write  
May your days be merry and bright  
and may all your Christmases be white_

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
With every Christmas card I write  
May your days be merry and bright  
and may all your Christmases be white._"

Jack rolled his eyes at the carollers. "Tch. Singing songs about Santa and white Christmases… and not even a hint of mentioning me. Don't they know that I'm the one responsible? That without me, there would be no white Christmas, no snowball fights, no nights where a blizzard is raging outside but they're safe and sound in their cosy little homes, snuggled up by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate?" He started speaking faster, raising his voice and nearly falling off the tree branch. Jack stopped and sighed. "I'm Jack Frost. I'm here to make them happy, right? I should stop thinking these kinds of thoughts and go out and have some fun," he said to himself with a smile, his mood swinging from upset to cheerful.

Despite his words, there was hurt hidden behind his smile.

–

Jack spent the rest of the day playing harmless tricks on people to distract him from his thoughts. He even set up a snowball fight between a bunch of kids hanging around the edge of the village. It lasted until all the kids were exhausted and covered in snow, and their mothers called them indoors. Jack joined in the snowball fight, creating ammo for the kids with his staff and throwing some snowballs himself. No one could see him, of course, but that thought slipped Jack's mind – he was having too much fun.

–

The sky began to darken, and the streets were slowly becoming deserted. Jack was in a great mood, dancing around, singing to himself and twirling his staff, making pretty frost patterns everywhere. It was a day well spent, Jack decided.

He was making his way back to the forest to get some sleep when he heard voices up ahead. It was two of the kids from before, talking about the snowball fight. Jack smiled and poked his head around the corner to listen (which was kind of pointless since he was invisible anyway, but Jack would feel weird if he stood there without being part of the conversation).

"That snowball fight was awesome!"  
"I know! Best fight EVER!"

A grin crept onto Jack's face.

"Hey, who started it anyway? And did you notice how there always seemed to be snowballs on hand whenever you needed them?" The first kid said, pulling his grey winter coat more tightly around him as a cold breeze swept by.

"I dunno," the second kid answered. His eyes lit up. "Hey! Maybe it was Jack Frost!"  
Jack's face was starting to hurt from grinning. His heart was overflowing with joy.

"Jack Frost? No way. He's just a story."  
"But–"  
"He doesn't exist, don't be silly." The kid with the grey coat said.  
The other kid sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Jack Frost is just a story."

Jack's mood plummeted. His heart felt like it had been torn in half. Not wanting to hear any more of the conversation, he pulled his hood over his head and walked away.

"Jack Frost is just a story. Jack Frost doesn't exist. Jack Frost isn't real," Jack chanted, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

Eventually he reached the forest. He was in a fantastic mood before, skipping and dancing around. Now, he walked slowly, with his head bowed and staff over his shoulder, dragging his feet. Jack stopped by a tree and held out his staff with both hands. He touched the tip of the staff to the tree trunk and watched as a beautiful pattern of frost snaked out and covered the bark. He stepped back and stared at his work. Jack stood there in silence for quite a while, staring at the ice. All of a sudden he swung his staff and shattered the pattern into a million pieces.

Jack jumped up and rose above the village. He started spinning and waving patterns in the air with his staff, summoning a blizzard.

The wind howled and swept through the village, stirring up the snow. The trees shook and rooftops groaned, trying to resist the force of the wind. It was impossible to see anything through the swirling chaos, except for the silhouette of Jack Frost hovering above the blizzard like a vengeful god.

Suddenly something in Jack's mind clicked, and he calmed down, gently floating back down to the ground. The blizzard stopped just as abruptly as it had started.

–

Jack walked around the forest listlessly for the rest of the night, lost in thought. At some point he realised that he had walked past the frozen lake at least six times, and collapsed in the snow under a tree. He discarded his staff and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself.

Then, for the first time in his life, Jack Frost hung his head down and cried.


End file.
